


Bring the Dawn

by song_of_fate



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: All is not well, Family Dynamics, Gen, M/M, Second Chances, Slow Burn, Temporary Character Death, bast does what she wants, canon character death, erik is disappointed, reluctant redemption, t'challa doesn't even know, the goddess has plans, they are all a little messed up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 03:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/song_of_fate/pseuds/song_of_fate
Summary: There is a sweetness in the way the sun rises.orDivine intervention, as usual, changes...everything.





	Bring the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about this entire movie, but this scene just made me ache. I wanted to change it, I think a lot of us do. I am pretty consumed despite the other fics people are waiting on. I needed to contribute to the fandom that I adore so much. So, here's this.

There is a sweetness in the way the sun rises. A broken skyline pouring into the land, waking it with it's very warmth. Erik had been told countless stories about Wakanda’s sunsets, but never their dawns. 

It was the sunsets that had driven him. To see the light fade from the beacons that bore the name of the man who murdered his father. Who had taken everything from him. Left him alone and angry and lost. The ending of the era of selfishness that kept so many of their brothers and sisters living through madness while his kin walked in shining towers hidden from the world. 

Erik had been King. Burned through Wakanda like the fire that lit him from the inside out. The constant, raging ache in his blood that never left him and turned his dreams to smoke and vengeance. T’Challa, the so called Protector if Wakanda, hadn't stood a chance. His cousin was naive, a thoroughbred royal with no real taste of what it was to despair, to suffer. 

Killmonger was gonna change all that. 

Nothing had been more satisfying than his revenge to him then. Spilling blood for the blood he had been left in as a child. T’Challa may not have been the killer but he had been a part of the same broken, hypocritical system that had torn his family apart and left him to die. He didn't have the chance to personally slit T’Chaka’s throat, no, someone else had stolen that from him. But his cousin would do. His family. His throne. His kingdom. Erik would have it all, and he'd do what needed to be done to make sure that Wakanda came into the light, that it's advantages and wealth would be used how he saw fit. 

The world itself would be remade is his image.

Nothing ever goes off without a hitch, Erik knew better. You make a game plan, you go for it. And if it doesn't happen, you adapt. You make it work. You win. 

Despite everything; his training, his planning, his power - Erik knew that he had seen his last sunset. Kneeling with a vibranium blade in his core before the country he had finally taken as his own. The heat of his anger rushing from his wound, taking with it the strength that had led him this far.

The pain made his lips twist into something that felt more snarl than smile, but the spear ripping through him brought him comfort. This was what he knew. Suffering from beginning to end. But this time he damn sure knew that he had brought it as well. He was no lost boy, and he would not die as one. His name would live on as the fearful shiver in their spines long after he was gone. He would live there forever in their darkest memories. Yes, Erik Killmonger would be remembered. 

The sun was burning across the horizon, taking out everything in its path as it did so. The clouds disappeared behind walls of fire until nothing could be seen but flames and the blackness of the mountains straining against them. Erik found it fitting that this would be his last sight in this world before he burned out as well. 

“It's beautiful.” The words spilled from him in a ragged whisper.

He felt T’Challa breathe before the other man knelt beside him. Could feel the tenseness in his body as though it was his own. A strange thing. It didn't matter now, though. None of it did. Erik didn't look away from the burning. 

“Maybe we can still heal you.”

Despite himself, the voice shook Erik. Something in the tone clearing his vision instantly, focus razoring in a way that should have been impossible at this point. His strength was fading, but he turned his head to meet the be blackness of his cousins gaze. There was a war on that face, in his eyes. Sympathy, anger, regret, fear. Erik wanted to hurt him. 

“Why?” He could feel bemusement in his own voice. “So you can lock me up?” This fool, he couldn't find a stone to stand on. He knew Erik was a threat. His most dangerous threat. And yet here he was trying to offer him salvation? No. He wasn't about to be robbed of his pride as well as his glory. 

Erik shook his head, eyes never breaking contact with T’Challa’s. “Nah..” his breath was coming harder now. He could feel his heat leaving him completely. Death would come to him in the form of the Black Panther, but he would always wear Erik's mark. That was enough for Erik. 

“Just bury me in the ocean." Look at me, he thought as though T'Challa could actually hear him. Remember this moment. "With my ancestors that jumped from the ships. Because they knew that death was better than bondage.” 

Erik reached for the spear holding him here in this world, hesitating only slightly when he realized something in T’Challa’s face had shattered. 

And there at once, the mask had left him completely. Erik had a split second of witnessing the true softness of the man that had killed him. There was no pity there, only sadness. What the fuck did he have to be sad for? For the loss of what might have been had Erik's father not been so incredibly wronged? For him having to become a monster to change the world? For this? 

He didn't need T'Challa's sympathy. He didn't want anything from him except his death. Dude couldn't even give him that.

Erik grit his teeth, trying to call upon the rage that had fueled his very existence for so long. One last flash of fire and agony before he was snuffed out completely. He gathered it to him, lips shifting back into a snarl as he started to pull. 

Sharp agonizing pain, then relief as his very essence spilled out from him. Blackness crept from the corners of his vision, and the air left his lungs one final time. 

Erik had seen his final sunset. He had set fire to the world.

The jaguar roared into the abyss. 

And the panther answered.


End file.
